


Regrets and Revelations

by LadySilviana



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-26
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-19 16:43:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3616947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadySilviana/pseuds/LadySilviana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belle is feeling desperate and hooks up with Will. Later that night she accidentally summons Rumpel with his dagger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Regrets and Revelations

**Author's Note:**

> So I am pretty new to fanfic, although I have written my own stories before. Any comments are welcome- provided they are constructive criticism and not completely hateful. It occurred to me that many people were dealing with the whole OUAT Rumbelle B/S by writing their own versions. So, I thought I would give it a try- being the Rumbelle fan that I am; so please do not read if you are not interested in this ship.

 

She looked at herself now and cried, tears streaming down a face overly done up with makeup, leaving traces of mascara down her cheeks.

When did I start wearing this much makeup anyway? Belle thought as she considered her grief-stricken visage in her bathroom mirror. I look so cheap, done up like this! Not myself at all, more like someone's vision of a pinup.

With a wracking sob, Belle grabbed a small towel from the counter and, soaking it with water, began to rub furiously at her face. Rubbing and rubbing, until her cheeks were pink and raw and the cloth came away covered with makeup, leaving her face clean and natural. The way it had been back at the Dark Castle. The way it had been the first year in Storybrooke. Clean and natural.

Belle heaved a sigh and began to pull out the bobby-pins from her ridiculous hair due. Yes, ridiculous, she could see that now. Just as ridiculous as the makeup had been. She let it down now, the curls falling unrestrained over her shoulders, frizzing around her face. There. Belle stood back and looked at herself with what seemed like clarity for the first time in the past several weeks. She felt like herself.

Which meant that her anguish hit her at full force as the reality of what she had done tore up her heart and settled in a sickening knot in her belly. Belle sank to her knees on the bathroom floor, hugging herself, and dissolved into bitter tears.

“I didn't want to do it, Rumpel,” she said to herself, “I swear I didn't want to.”

And she hadn't wanted to, not _that_. But her friends had been so insistent that she move on and forget _him_. Snow and Emma and Hook, all telling her the best way to get over the ordeal was to be with someone else, to get out there and date. If it had been anyone else but the Dark One, they would have told her to take her time to grieve. At the end, she felt so desperate that she had given in and done just that. Belle didn't even like Will but she had to pass the time somehow knowing that she had to live without her Rumpel. Better that she hadn't listened to them. Better that...

Better that tonight did not happen...

She had woken up this morning aching for him. It has been this way every day since he had left, of course. Belle would roll over in bed, arms extended, groping around the empty blankets for that familiar warm body. She waited in her half sleep for him to wake and return her embrace; for his thigh to demurely push up between her legs, making her straddle it as he brought his mouth up to graze her throat. She waited for the slow and languorous lovemaking to follow, the first but not the last of the day. She waited for that soft, husky voice to whisper her name into her ear as he came inside her.

Instead there was nothing. Just the deceptively warm sunlight on a pile of empty blankets around her.

Today she had given in and, in her desperation, called Will and told him to take her out that night. When their date was over and he looked expectantly at her, Belle said that yes, she will go to his apartment.

Once there, she told him to keep the lights off. So that she could not see his face when it happened, but imagine another one in its stead. He did not have to know that of course- he just thought that she was shy- which suited Belle fine.

There was none of that familiar artistry when Will undressed her, none of that sensual, tantalizing grace. When they kissed, Belle gasped, a gasp of frustration and not pleasure, for when her fingers slid up his neck to tangle themselves in the long, soft hair they failed to find it. Will did not know the difference. In the end, Belle could not face him and had him take her from behind so that she did not have to inhale the alcohol on his breath. And this way she could hide the tears and pretend it wasn't Will at all, but her husband, whom she would never see again. Yet her body knew the difference that her mind tried fruitlessly to disguise. It was not him.

In the end he had seemed satisfied enough, grinning at her dumbly and asking her if she enjoyed it too.

“Sure, yeah.” Belle said wide-eyed and dumbfounded, as she dressed. Will had asked her to spend the night and she declined, telling him truthfully that that intimacy she definitely was not ready for.

And here she was on the bathroom floor of her library apartment with the smell of his skin unpleasantly clinging to her. Belle forced herself to get up and turn on the shower. She could not go to bed with that stink of alcohol and Will on her body. She made the water scolding hot, yelping as she got in, but settling into the heat with gritted teeth, scrubbing raw her body the way she had her face.

The worst part was, the aching was still there, a relentless throbbing between her legs and in her soul- her entire being calling out for her true love.

After what seemed like an eternity in the steaming shower, Belle went to her bed and curled up, bringing her knees up to her chest. She reached under her pillows, her fingers wrapping around the hilt of the Dark One's dagger which she hid there. She knew it was not the safest spot, but this way she could feel the remnants of his essence near her when she slept.

Belle pulled out the dagger and lay it on the bed beside her, stroking it lovingly, tracing the name engraved there with her fingertips.

Rumpelstiltskin.

Closing her eyes, Belle thought back to their love games. He was creative to the last- it was small wonder that no other man could serve to satisfy her now. She had been playing with the Dark One too long. The Dark One...

Every night it was like this, her mind flipping back and forth between the sweet and dirty memories of their time together and the bitter, self-loathing reprimands.

 _Stupid girl_ , she thought to herself, biting her lips against the wracking sobs, _how many times has he tried to send you away? How many times have you come back, rebelling, battering at his defenses, telling him to tear them down? How many times have you told him you would never leave until at last he believed you? And then you failed to note the moment when he needed you most? Sure, he messed up- but he messed up because you were not there to reassure him,to help him. All your protestations of faith have been false._

Belle banished those thoughts and brought back the memories again. She thought of how he would combine his magic and his hands to work on her simultaneously, phantom fingers holding her arms and legs in place so she could not move. All the while he would have her keep her eyes shut and try and guess where his real hands stroked her and where- the invisible tendrils of magic.

And like every other night Belle finally worked herself up to say it.

“Rumpelstiltskin. I command you come to me- take me and make me yours again,” She whispered it to the dagger, knowing that he was not in Storybrooke and knowing he would not come. He had not come any of the other nights and he would never come again. Still she tried.

Sighing, Belle rolled over unto her back, stretching her arms overhead. She pretended that he was in the chair beside the bed, observing and watching her as she lay there tethered by his magic cords, writhing in arousal and begging for him to take her.

“Rumpel, please,” she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut so that they would not open to the empty room. Belle thought she was losing her mind for an instant, her imagination getting the better of her, for she could swear it felt as though those magic restraints were in fact there. Her wrists and ankles tingled in that peculiar and eerie way they did when the magic bound her, an invisible pressure holding her tightly in place. Belle gasped and arched her back as a familiar caress whispered over her skin, making her nipples grow taunt against the fabric of her night dress.

“This feels so real,” Belle cried to the empty room, “I must have gone mad at last.”

“No not mad, dearie,” came a deep, husky reply, “you have summoned and I have come.”

Belle's opened her eyes with a start, turning her head and looking to her left, unable to believe it. In the chair beside the bed sat Rumpelstiltskin, legs crossed casually, dark eyes gleaming thoughtfully out at her from a cool and impassive face.

“Rumpel!” Belle tried to get up and reach out to him, but the bonds she thought she had envisioned were real indeed and she could not rise up from the bed. She could only look at him as he sat there, so close and yet out of reach.

The Dark One smiled then, but it was not the warm smile of her husband. Belle felt her breath catch in her throat.

“Yes, Belle,” he said slowly. “It is I. I admit I did not expect this call, my first night back in town, but it certainly makes things easier.” She noticed with dismay that the dagger, which had so carelessly lay at her side, was now grasped in one of his hands. “I was wondering how I was going to get this back. You saved me the trouble.

With that Rumpelstiltskin pushed himself out of the chair and straightened his suit jacket, tucking the dagger away into an inside pocket. Belle realized then that he was planning to leave and an inhuman sound escaped her lips.

“Don't!” She cried out to him and would have grasped his arm,which was so near her, were the magic bonds not holding her down to the bed.

Rumpel looked back over at her.

“Oh don't worry,” he told her wryly, “I will not do anything to harm you, Belle.”

“No not that! I mean don't leave! Don't leave me, Rumpel.”

“Remember, dearie- you were the one that cast me out. Seems like you wanted me gone. I see you have even replaced me with someone younger and prettier already.”

“No,” she sobbed. “No. I was wrong Rumpel. I know this now. What you did was wrong too- but it was not about you. You did it for us and I refused to see it. I have regretted it ever since.” Belle gulped and focused her clear blue eyes on his dark and penetrating ones. “I do not know by what magic you are here again- but please do not leave me now.”

“So you have missed me then?” He hovered over her, standing still, but at least he did not seem to be in such a hurry anymore. She even dared to hope that his voice had lost a bit of its icy chill.

Belle nodded.

“I have missed you so much. Every night since you left I have called upon your dagger, hoping against hope that you would come.”

“Yes, _come and make me yours again,_ ” he mimicked her words unpleasantly.

Belle cried freely at that, knowing that she deserved the mean way he treated her now.

Suddenly, he was sitting on the bed beside her, his hands reaching out to brush the tears from her cheeks with his fingertips. He released the magic bonds and she was free to move her limbs. Throwing her arms around his waist, Belle held on tightly to him and inhaled that rich and musky scent she had missed over the past several weeks.

“No don't cry, Belle,” his voice was soft, the voice of the lover she remembered. “We have made our apologies. I should not have talked to you like that there. I must admit I was... am... bitter still. But I would be a fool to leave if you still want me.”

Somehow him being kind to her now made it all worse, made her guilt all that more overwhelming. She had to tell him about Will. Belle tried to make the confession and choked on her words.

“What is it, Belle?” He cupped her chin and lifted her face so he could better see her.

“I betrayed you,” she whispered, averting her eyes so that the small, intimate smile that played upon his lips would not cut her to the core when she made her admission.

“No, sweetheart, it is alright. I will make you a deal,” he gave her nose a little tap, “I will forget about you forcing me across the town line and being emotionally unavailable during a time when I needed you most. And you forget about the whole hat business and the dagger switching.” He had that damn mischievous sing song voice of his.

“No, Rumpel – that isn't what I am talking about,” Belle took a breath and forced herself to meet his eyes. “I mean that I have... been with someone else.”

With a hiss Rumpelstiltskin stood up, pushing her face away roughly as he did so. Belle half expected him to just disappear in cloud of purple smoke. Instead he started to pace around her bedroom and she noted the barely suppressed rage welling up inside him. Belle cowered on her bed, sitting up and hugging her knees. A part of her wished that he would take the rage out on her. Slap her in the face, push her down among the blankets and ...

“Will...” he muttered angrily as he paced. It wasn't a question, just an observation.

It all came pouring out of her then. All the anguish she had bottled up inside since she made him leave. She talked about waking up in the mornings burning with desire for him. She talked about the despair and the emptiness that would settle in whenever it was obvious he wasn't there and how it would stay with her all day. How she listened to bad advice from people that didn't even care about how she felt. How, finally, she had to do something to take the pain away but it only made it worse.

At some point Rumpel stopped pacing and stood looking at her, arms folded across his chest, a strange expression on his face.

Once it was all out and Belle had stopped talking, there was a long and awful silence. At long last, Rumpel gave a a resigned heave of his shoulders, looking defeated.

“I could go and kill him now and take revenge. But I won't because I need to prove to you that I have changed. It would be futile anyway- what's done is done.”

This was not what she had expected.

“What are you saying?” Belle said through her tears.

“I am saying if there is any chance of a happy ending here then I have to get passed this.” He said softly and came back over to the bed. “That isn't to say I am not furious. Only that I believe that what you did, you did out of complete desperation. As I did when I lied about the dagger and everything else.”

“Oh, Rumpel!” Belle fell into his embrace, beyond relieved, her fingers working to strip him of his suit jacket and dress shirt. She fumbled, overwrought with emotions but he was helping her, shrugging out of the clothes just as she was pushing them off of him. “I want you to take me hard, Rumpel. I don't deserve your gentleness right now.”

“No,” he stroked her cheek and pushed her down softly. “You don't deserve my gentleness right now. Which is exactly why I am going to be gentle with you. It will be a worse punishment for you this way. If I am rough it will give you a release. I don't want that.”

He slid his hands up her thighs, pushing up the fabric of her nightgown so it lay bunched up around her waist, leaning over at the same time to finally kiss her. Belle's lips parted eagerly to invite those languorous strokes of his tongue she had been craving so desperately. Her own fingers found his belt buckle and pried it loose, slipping down his trousers and undergarments in one smooth movement. His erection sprung free of confinement, rigidly pressing into her soft belly. Belle sighed, surprised but happy to find him hard already. Rumpel made a deliberately slow, rotating movement with his hips, letting her feel him before he moved away to kneel between her legs, his hands releasing their hold on her thighs. Belle whimpered, not liking to lose the pressure of his body.  
“Is this what you want, Belle?” Rumpel asked deviously, closing a hand over his broad erection and giving himself a generous stroke. He raised an inquisitive eyebrow, a crooked smile blooming on his face. “Is this what you have missed so much?” Belle nodded , watching as liquid beads collected at the tip of his cock while he continued to stroke himself. Rumpel's other hand reached between her legs, two fingers slipping easily into her slick wetness.

“But you have deceived me, dearie,” he purred while his thumb found her clit and rubbed it with excruciating slowness, the fingers inside moving in rhythm. “You let someone else touch you.”  
His hand was gone, replaced by his swollen head poised at her throbbing entrance. Belle arched her back, eyes closed, needing to feel him inside her. But he would not oblige her, not yet.

“Look at me, Belle,” he commanded, “look at me as I fill you up.” She obeyed, laying still and looking down just in time to watch him slide inside her, stretching her wide with his considerable girth. Belle moaned, contented at the completeness. She moved her hips, bucking into him and urging him to move faster, but Rumpel only shook his head at her.

“No, I won't be rough with you the way you want,” he told her once more, “that will make you forget. Next time- next time, I will make you forget. But for now I want you to feel your guilt,” he slipped out of her slowly, his length covered with her juices, “with every thrust,” and he buried himself to the hilt again in her softness.

How long it went on like this, Belle did not know. He had her crying by the end, sobbing for forgiveness, as if she had not cried enough. Crying as she came all over him; crying as she felt him spend himself inside her.

After that they held each other for a long while and there were no more tears, only an understanding that had been long in coming. And eventually he took her again, only this time he was rough and he made them both forget.


End file.
